Melancholy of the Trickster's Son
by The Shadow Syndicate
Summary: Sleipnir. The mighty war steed of Odin begins to doubt his place in the halls of Valhalla. As his reservations begin to mount his father Loki tries to persuade his son to choose his side. But will he breaks his bonds to Asgard or his family? Mix of Earth's Mightiest Heroes and Norse Mythology.


Asgard. Home of the Asgardians. Alfheim. Realm of the Elves. Muspelheim. Land of fire and container of the fire demon Surtur. He crossed these realms and many others. From the realm of the Frost giants to Midgard, land of the mortals. Across the nine realms. From eight directions into eight dimensions. He was the bringer of the valiant dead, from the battlefield to Valhalla.

Upon eight legs he rode effortlessly through sea and sand and stars. From the dead shores of Nephilheim to the ever expanding cosmos of the universe no place was beyond his reach. Indeed if it was to his pleasure he could gallop the entire sea of stars called the Milky Way and not ever tire.

He was the steed of the Allfather. Odin, Lord of the Norse and god of war did ride into battle against his enemies upon his back. The Valkyries themselves tended to his needs and his stable could rival the expensive mansions of Midgard. Every care was taken to him and he was the most beloved symbol connected to Odin.

Why then was he unhappy?

Sleipnir gazed out of his window observing the lights of Asgard twinkle as night descended upon their homes. The stars glittered overhead and the Bifrost could be seen faintly shimmering in the distance. His eight hooves carried him through the stable doors and into the open courtyard.

The trees were shedding their leaves in anticipation of winter and the Odinsleep. He knew the time of recharging was near and he needed to be by the Allfather's side to defend against any who would harm him. Without Odin the Nine Realms would be at each others throats bringing about Ragnorok.

He whinnied softly as he trotted to his trough and drunk deep the pure water collected off of high mountain glaciers. As he satiated his thirst he thought about his place. It was good wasn't it? Better certainly than many of the warriors who occupied Valhalla.

A cage gilded is still a cage.

There was that traitorous voice again. Ever present it nagged his mind with dark whispers, possibly a side effect of his Giant's blood or the magic used to create him.

Still it had a point. Asgard was his haven. It was also a prison. A strict prison. He was not allowed outside the walls without a Valkyrie escort. He could not satisfy his lusts, especially with the Valkyrie's prized Pegasus or the Elven wild steeds. This thus insured that he would not father any offspring.

He wasn't allowed into any place but the Allfather's palace, not the endless mead halls of couragous warriors. Not the Valkyrie's headquaters. Not the blacksmiths nor the beautiful cathedrals. Possibly because he frightened people, or because a horse should stay in his stable.

The Allfather was very clear he needed to be kept on a tight leash. Because the Allfather needed him?

Because you are your father's son.

Ah yes Loki. His bloodfather. The one sired him. Long had he been a traitor to Asgard. Though in Sleipnir's eyes his father at least had genuine grievance.

Sleipnir stared up at the sky. Perhaps these were the reason he had never let known that he possesed intelligence equal to the people. This is why he never spoke mortal tongue.

You will always be his prisoner.

Perhaps so. Still better to be a beast than a prince in chains. Besides, who was Sleipnir Lokison to question his lot in life? He took one last look at the stars and turned to walk inside. He needed to ease he burdened mind with a well needed rest.

"HAIL SLEIPNIR!"

Sleipnir tossed his ragged grey mane at the voice's call. He knew that voice anywhere. Turning he saw a figure worshipped by mortals in ancient time. Clad in black armor, red cape fluttering in the breeze and carrying the greatest hammer forged in Asgard was Thor Odinson. The norse god of thunder. Of course he only knew him by one name.

Uncle.

He snorted and pushed his head into his chest which caused the immortal to laugh. Thor ran his hands through Sleipnir's mane and smiled and the giddyness of what was supposed to be a fearsome war mount. For as long as he had been around though Sleipnir had always been affectionate towards him.

Sleipnir was what the one known as Clint would call 'a big softie'.

"Come my nephew" Thor said wrapping an arm around the steed's neck "I have much to tell you of my journies in Midgard!"

'Well I suppose there are some perks to being a prisoner' Sleipnir thought to himself as he and his uncle walked into the stable.

_Jotunheim: Land of the Frost Giants_

Little did Sleipnir know someone was watching him that very moment. Someone he knew very well indeed. From upon his icy throne in the heart of Jotunheim the sire of Sleipnir was watching with subdued anger. The magical spell he used to gaze upon Asgard began to waver in his anger.

"I thought you were gathering intelligence. Not spying upon Odin's pet beast."

His brooding eyes cast downward from where the voice came. Clad in revealing green attire Amora the Enchantress was part sorceress and part seductress. A dangerous combination, even to a highly intelligent immortal as himself. He oft wondered if she was truly his ally or whether she pegged him as a mere plaything.

"He is no mere Beast. He is descended of Laufey and carries the strength of giants within his veins" He said as the spell faded with a slight fizzle.

Amora smiled and absentmindedly and ran a hand through her hair. "He is still but a horse my Lord" she reminded him.

"You know not his potential. He and his brother are perfect. Flawless beings, created to do my own will."

"Whatever you say. This still brings you no closer to having your revenge" Amora reminded him.

"The mortals shall be first to suffer" He went on as if he didn't hear her. This wouldn't have been the first time he had done this. "Midgard shall be the first to fall in my conquest."

"And how shall you do that?" She asked snaking an arm across his chest. "What do you have in mind?"

Beneath his golden antlered crown Loki smiled. Thor and his friends would have a lot to answer for, denying his birthright and ruining his conquest. Midgard would be left in ruins and he would be there to see it.

"A moster terrible endevor." He said with an evil smile.

Amora nodded and turned to walk away. She looked back and coyly asked "What of your son?"

"He shall aid me of his own free will once I enlighten him to the truth."

"And if he is not open minded?" Amora quipped slyly.

Loki's answer was terrible and absolute.

"Then I shall break him."

Sleipnir would come into his plans whether he wanted to or not.


End file.
